


if our fingers touch, how would it feel?

by mimimini



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Friends to Lovers, M/M, featuring robots holding hands (?), i think, more domestic than you'd think, one-sided luren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-13 16:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17491370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimimini/pseuds/mimimini
Summary: Jeno wishes he had enough money to move someplace warmer and less polluted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i should stick to shorter stuff, but i never learn my lesson. the title is from electric by shinee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's almost three a.m. and i feel like death. enjoy!

Jeno removes his visor with a sigh. It didn't work this time either.

Renjun is still trying…whatever project he's been working on, and Jeno can bet that his neck is going to hurt like hell if he keeps that position. Renjun is on his workstation chair, his head bent back and his mouth slightly open, a visor covering his eyes. Sensors are scattered on his body, some under his shirt, and the entangled grey cables attached to them make him look as if he’s trapped at the center of a spider web.

Since he needs some space for the cables inside his shirt, he's been using one of Jeno's old ones, stamped with the E-Races team's logo Jeno was in during his last year of undergrad. The shirt looks old, with a couple of small holes he made over the years, and Renjun looks dwarfed in it, in a sort of endearing way.

Jeno likes it.

He goes to grab a cushion from the sofa and walks to Renjun's chair. With a sigh, he cradles Renjun's head and slips the cushion between Renjun's back and the chair. It won't hold Renjun's neck as straight as it should be, but it'll give him some kind of support. He pats Renjun on the head absentmindedly.

There's a post-it attached on the side of one of the monitors on Renjun's desk. Jeno bends over Renjun to get close enough to read it: I should finish by 1030, there’s written in Renjun's neat handwriting. Soon.

 

By the time Renjun enters the kitchen, the pasta is almost cooked. Jeno is still far from being a decent cook, and Renjun is the one who cooks most of their food when they don’t order or eat out, but he thinks his spaghetti are good enough, if he can say so himself.

“Success?” Jeno asks, but he can guess the answer already just by looking at Renjun's complicated expression.

“I'm still unsatisfied,” Renjun mutters, plopping down on his usual chair and massaging his neck. “I can't find the right balance.”

Jeno hums. Renjun has been working on this project for a while. It's some kind of simulation, or that's what Renjun says, changing in real time based on the parameters read by the sensors. He’s been working on it for almost a year.

Renjun likes subtlety in the stuff he makes, and apparently he still can't quite grasp it in this case.

Jeno has offered his help to test it several times, but Renjun always refused it, telling him that he wants to achieve a smooth run by himself first, and then start adapting it to other people. This approach puzzles Jeno, and he went as far as to voice his concerns in regards, one time, but Renjun appears to be adamant: he wants to keep it under wraps for now.

“Thanks for the cushion, by the way,” Renjun adds.

Jeno smiles at him in response.

“How about you?”

Jeno turns off the cooktop and puts the colander in the sink. “I ran into a bug in one of the new areas,” he replies as he pours the contents of the pot in the colander. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to bring a playable demo to the Con. I should start recording some snippets of gameplay for a trailer, at least...”

“Have you heard back from BeeSoft?”

“Nope.” He gestures for Renjun to bring to him the plates. “ _Ordinary_ didn’t do as well as they expected, so they’re not interested in buying my next project, I guess.”

Renjun hands him the plates, and Jeno catches a glimpse of his brows furrowing as he unceremoniously shoves the spaghetti into them.

“What is it?” he asks.

“It’s not like it did badly, either,” Renjun mutters. “I think it was a really nice game. Your demo definitely was. They were the ones who ruined it adding all that unnecessary stuff to your idea.”

Jeno shrugs. He really needs to sell his new project, because the money he made when his indie game blew up is running thin after a couple of years, and the payment he got for _Ordinary_ was blown away when their previous apartment got flooded and they had to buy again all the equipment.

However, to be able to sell it, he needs to build a decent demo first.

 

They don’t have any sauce, but there’s some synthetic olive oil in single-dose packets that Renjun constantly steals at the restaurant he’s working part-time at. He hates the place and loathes its menu, but their synthetic oil isn’t half bad.

They eat in silence, each of them thinking about what they should do next. When they finish, Jeno gets up and grabs Renjun’s plate as well, bringing them to the sink. The water he used to cook the spaghetti is now pleasantly warm. He rinses the plates in it, and then he pulls them out the water again and switches the button to make the water drain into the container of reusable water. Finally, he puts the dishes and the forks in the washer.

That dishwasher cost them a lot, all dry washers are worth a load of money, and what they spent was maybe more than they could afford, but Jeno is mildly allergic to most of the dry-no-rinse dish soaps, and the area they live in has rationed water for domestic use, so hand washing the dishes could potentially mean having to leave them dirty in the sink for days, and neither of them was too keen on that idea.

Had he been rich, he would have bought a water depurator, even, but it’s still a far dream.

Well, had he been rich, they’d live in a much better place, anyway.

 

After they eat their early lunch, Renjun leaves for his part-time, and Jeno goes back to his workstation to see if he can find and smooth out the bug in the new area.

He doesn't notice the _clunk_ of the capsule falling out the pneumatic tube, nor the noises from the door when Renjun comes back home, until his roommate plants one icy hand on the base of his neck.

He gasps, both for the cold and the surprise, and maybe a bit because it's Renjun's hand on his nape, and Renjun laughs at him, oblivious and amused. It must have been a quiet day at work.

“A capsule from Yukhei arrived,” Renjun tells him, waving it in his other hand.

“Oh. I didn't hear it.”

“Of course you didn't,” Renjun says with a chuckle.

When he's concentrating, Jeno completely cuts himself off the rest of the world. It's just him, the keyboard, the monitors. And his glasses in between, until a while ago.

Once, Renjun had told him his ability to completely isolate himself from his surroundings like that makes him look cool, at times. They were postgrad students back then, a bit after they started rooming together. Jeno, much bolder then than now, had prodded on.

 _How cool?_ , he remembers asking with a smirk he wouldn't be able to pull off now. Renjun had elbowed him, but had muttered a _just cool_ under his breath, his ears red.

It was pitiful how that was the furthest their flirting (it was flirting, right?) had ever gone.

“He says he's in Sector 5 now,” Renjun reads on the letter from him. It would take less than a second to send them a message through the Net, but Yukhei is a romantic down to his core, his literal core since he got operated for a heart condition as a kid, so he still spends a stupid amount of money on simil-paper to send them these capsules.

He can afford it.

“Must be nice being in a warm area,” Jeno whispers to himself. If he makes it big with his games, Sector 5 would be the perfect place to enjoy his money. He'd bring Renjun with himself, of course.

Renjun wouldn't want to live off him, though, so they both have to become rich for Jeno's little retirement plan to come to reality.

Renjun is still insisting on paying him back in instalments for the equipment Jeno bought for him after the previous apartment was flooded, even after Jeno told him it was okay. Jeno just puts that money into an envelope every time Renjun hands it to him, waiting for the moment when Renjun’s too busy to notice that he’s slipping some bills back into his wallet.

“He says he's marrying next month.”

Renjun's tone is off, it's what Jeno notices first, before processing his words.

The soft smile that was on Renjun's lips fades away, replaced by a thin, straight line. Jeno turns off his workstation’s monitors and turns on his chair to face him. He wraps his fingers around Renjun’s wrist, making him lower the letter, and plucks it from his grasp with the other hand.

The first half looks like one of Yukhei's usual letters, with a brief recount of his latest travels and tales from the set of the latest blockbuster movie he's starring in. The second half, however, would send the fans of their friend from all over the planet and in the space colonies in a frenzy.

That, in addition to inadvertently stomp one last time on Renjun's heart.

 

It’s funny to think that one of your nerdy companions in undergrad ended up becoming a Sun-system-wide heartthrob, but that’s exactly what happened with Yukhei. The friendly, kind guy they shared cramming sessions with, now has his face on the huge billboard in the middle of the shopping district, and uses a sparkly new name.

Yukhei and Renjun used to come as a package at university, they knew each other before Jeno became friends with Renjun, and when Jeno first met them, he had thought they were dating. They weren’t, much to Renjun’s dismay; Yukhei was a touchy-feely friend, made Renjun sit on his lap, hugged him, even held his hand at times, but not once had he looked at Renjun in more than a friendly way, not once had he taken the hint when Renjun tried to flirt, and Renjun had had to come to terms to the fact that Yukhei didn’t entertain the idea of them dating, at all.

Coming to terms hadn’t meant moving on.

 

Jeno doesn’t bother reading the part where Yukhei is gushing about his soon-to-be spouse, putting the letter aside. He looks up at Renjun.

He wants to say something, anything really, but words won't come to him. He's always struggling to find the right words when it comes to Renjun.

Renjun smiles at him, but it's a stretched, sad little thing, nowhere close to a convincing smile. “We have to look for a wedding present. He won't be expecting anything expensive from us, will he?”

Yukhei isn't like that, and Renjun is the one who knows it better than anyone. “Of course he won't,” Jeno replies offhandedly. He feels at loss.

Renjun turns away to leave the room, but Jeno doesn’t let him go, squeezing his wrist, and stops him.

“Why don't we go to eat out today?” he suggests, feeling like a complete idiot.

Renjun hesitates. “Okay,” he says after a second.

 

The smell in front of their building is terrible, it’s always been like this, but at least it isn’t toxic. There’s a light rain when they step out of the condominium; the damp asphalt looks even darker than usual, the holes in it filled with water and mud. The whole city looks darker now: it’s night, and the yellow street lights and the shops’ neons do a poor job at illuminating it. The tall skyscrapers of the city centre look dead, the people working there probably in the comfort of the subterranean houses provided by their companies, but here, where the buildings are less tall and the people can’t afford living in a dormitory town under the ground, there are many apartments with lights peeking through the windows behind curtains or pages of cheap newspapers.

They only own one umbrella at the moment, because it’s very rare for them to be both outside at the same time, and after their other umbrella broke a couple of months ago, they haven’t bothered to buy a new one. Jeno holds it over their heads in one hand, with his other arm wrapped around Renjun’s shoulder. It’s an oddly comforting position, for Jeno at least, because it has been done a lot of time over the years. He hopes that some of that comfort is passed on to Renjun.

When they step into the main road, the exhaust fumes welcome them in, embracing them and impregnating their clothes. Even the rain isn’t enough to clean up the air, at this point. Renjun covers his mouth with his coat’s sleeve, but it’s a useless try.

Jeno really wishes he had the money to move to Sector 5, or even just Sector 7.

There's only one place they go when they eat out, and that's Old Na's Bus Restaurant. It's an actual, old double-decker bus remodeled, and while the food is good, the real reason they always go there is because Jaemin, current owner of the Bus Restaurant now that his father, the original Old Na, has retired because of poor health, is Jeno's childhood friend and gives them a special price every time.

“Jen, Jun. Long time no see,” Jaemin greets them when they enter. He points a finger up. “Your favourite spot upstairs is free for now. If you can get out in an hour it's all yours.”

Jeno turns to Renjun.

“We'll take it then,” Renjun tells Jaemin.

They walk up the stairs and go sit at the table at the back of the bus.

They don’t need to look at the menu to know what’s on it, because they remember it by heart by now, and they always order the same thing anyway. Renjun wishes he could work here, and he has voiced this wish to Jaemin once, but the Bus Restaurant is completely manned by members of Jaemin’s family, who are even more than enough, so they aren’t looking for any new waiter. Jaemin said it a little more kindly, because he’s really fond of Renjun, but the facts don’t change.

The Bus is almost full tonight, but the only table next to theirs is empty, giving them some privacy.

Jeno wants to say something, something that could comfort Renjun and make him smile, but he still can’t find the words. He had hoped they would come to him as they walked to the Bus, but his mind is completely empty.

 

Renjun’s feelings for Yukhei have always been something akin to a minefield, there but not fully acknowledged, even after a few years since their time at university.

Jeno wonders if it’s like his thing for Renjun. However, there’s one, enormous difference between their situations: while Yukhei is usually a continent and many hours of plane rides Renjun can’t afford away, Jeno got the chance to live with Renjun.

The problem with Jeno is, the situation hasn’t changed ever since they moved in together.

And it won’t change now of all times, of course.

“Ready to order?” Jaemin’s voice pierces through Jeno’s spiral of thoughts. He didn’t even notice Jaemin was there at all.

“Old Na’s hotpot,” Renjun says, and Jeno nods, waving two fingers at Jaemin.

“I don’t know why I even bother asking,” Jaemin huffs. “You could change your order, every now and then, you know.”

Jeno tries to laugh, but it’s very unconvincing, and Jaemin seems to suddenly sense the stiff atmosphere. He gives a piercing look at Renjun, who avoids his gaze, lowering his eyes and pretending to examine the plastic glass; then, Jaemin stares at Jeno, whose laughter dies off awkwardly.

Jeno isn’t sure about what he should and should not say. He wishes he could ask for Jaemin’s advice, have someone teach him what he should tell Renjun, but telling him about this feels like betraying Renjun.

“It’s nothing,” is the only thing Jeno manages to say, fleebly, unconvincingly.

“If you say so.” Jaemin isn’t fooled, but he knows when it’s better to use tact, so he doesn’t take the matter any further. He leaves the jug of tea he brought there on the table and goes to attend other customers, his business smile back on his face.

Renjun is playing with the napkin, running the fingernail of his index finger on it, drawing shapes.

Jeno takes a deep breath. He needs to say it, he needs to get those words out for Renjun, but he dreads them at the same time.

While Jeno is still undecided, it’s Renjun the one who talks first.

“I’m okay,” he says, a sorry expression on his face. “I know you’re worried. But I’m okay.”

Jeno wants to scream. There’s no way he’s okay. He definitely doesn’t look like it.

And he says so, in a bout of courage that surprises even himself.

Renjun stares at him, his eyes opened wide. “I…” he starts, lowering his eyes once again. “It’s high time I put an end to this fixation I have on him, anyway.”

It’s the first time Renjun is admitting it so openly to Jeno, much to his chagrin, and if it weren’t for the fact that Yukhei is the nicest guy he’s ever known, Jeno would like to punch him in the face, for being so blissfully oblivious to Renjun’s pining since the dawn of time.

“It was bound to happen, sooner or later,” Renjun adds after a moment, grabbing the napkin with his hand, crumpling it. “I thought… I thought I was ready to face it, but…” His voice cracks.

Jeno reaches out and places his hand on Renjun’s. It’s not a romantic gesture, neither in his intentions, nor in the way Renjun perceives it. “You’re going to be okay,” Jeno says, squeezing his hand. It’s the lamest thing he could say, but he has to convey it, somehow. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing. It’s his loss, really. That idiot.”

Renjun gives him a little smile. It’s a small thing, but it’s still something.

 

The ceremony is going to be held in four months, so there isn’t really anything to worry about right now. Yukhei wrote in his letter that he’s mailing them the tickets and the details of the hotel he’s reserving for the guests. The ceremony will be very informal, he wrote, so as long as they have some decent clothes in their closets--they have--there shouldn’t be any problem nor particular financial strain on them.

Hopefully, by then Jeno will have sold his demo, so even if there were, they should be covered.

In the days immediately after the letter’s arrival, Renjun gets quieter. He pours himself into his project even more than before, which is clearly a coping mechanism, but he still eats and sleeps, so at least he’s healthy, Jeno reasons. It sounds weak even to his ears.

Jeno tries to cheer him up in the only ways he knows: showing him funny bugs in his demo, watching with him old documentaries taken before most of the wildlife was confined to Sector 9, and he even considers looking for that _Portable Fox Simulator_ Renjun has been eyeing since forever, but he feels like such a present would mean stepping into something different, so he rules that out--not that he has enough money at the moment to be able to afford it, anyway.

His efforts seem to have effect, to a degree: as the days pass, Renjun slowly gains back his calm cheerfulness, and his edges start smoothing themselves, as if he’s starting to look at the world around him once again. For the umpteenth time, Jeno wishes he could show Renjun a better part of the world to look at.

 

One day, Renjun comes back from his shift at the restaurant a little later than usual. Jeno has finally solved the bug that has been tormenting him for a while, a tricky buffer overflow in the second area, and he’s lying down on the floor, the tension that had kept him going for hours finally melting and leaving him feeling boneless.

“Hi there,” Renjun hums. Jeno would look at him in wonder, if he didn’t feel dead to the core of his being.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he manages to comment, his voice muffled by having his cheek against the old linoleum. These apartments are super old, but they do have perks.

“I found something really interesting,” Renjun says.

Jeno rolls to his back, so he can look at him.

Upside-down Renjun shows him a piece of junk. Jeno squints at it. It looks like one of those companion robots with human-like voices that were popular a couple of decades ago, when they were little kids.

“I found an old Chenle-Z01,” Renjun explains, excited. “And it’s still working! See?” He pushes what Jeno guesses is a button on the back of the robot’s head and, in a second, its eyes--leds, actually, put in a place that might resemble where eyes are in a human--come to life.

“Hi! I’m Chenle!” the robot squeaks, its claw-like hands opening and closing. “Let’s be friends!”

Renjun puts it down on the floor, and the Chenle-Z01 lets out a short cry that probably sounded like a laugh back when it was fully functional. “I really wanted one of these when I was a kid,” he says, a nostalgic look in his eyes as he watches the robot padding in circle. The robot is the same size of a small dog, barely reaching Renjun’s knee with the top of its “head”.

The robot in itself doesn’t look very human-like. There are two leds that might resemble eyes, placed in a rounded, transparent half sphere that might resemble a head, with a faded smile painted on it, yes, and it has two arms that end in claws made to grab things--one of the features of this kind of robots was being able to bring you small objects, or pull at your clothes like a dog would do--but that's it. Its feet are small boards, and to change direction the robot has to make small jumps--probably a simple spring mechanism. In general it looks more like a blue cylinder than anything else. There is a small red knob on the top of its “head”, slowly rotating while the robot is active. It’s probably a charging device of sort. The robot looks surprisingly well-preserved for its age.

Jeno watches sideways as the robot stops next to him him, its leds blink a couple of times, and then the metallic voice asks him, “Let’s play!”

“The voice chip has something wrong. Where did you find it?”

“This is the most interesting part. It was dumped in the back alley next to the restaurant. It wasn’t there yesterday, I’m sure.”

“Didn’t this come as a pair with another one?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t find the other. Still, I feel lucky.”

Renjun is beaming, and Jeno is sure he hasn’t seen him happy like that in a long, long time, even before Yukhei’s letter.

He decides it’s finally time to sit up. “What are you planning to do with it?”

Renjun crouches down to pick the robot up, hugging it like a plushie to his chest. “I’ll clean it, but these models are hard to open and repair, so I guess that’s all I can do.” Renjun sighs. “Isn’t it so cute?”

 

It’s very cute, until it isn’t. For Jeno, at least.

It’s been a week, and Jeno is starting to feel kind of wary of the little Chenle perched on Renjun’s desk. It’s weird, and Jeno feels like doubting his own eyes, but he swears he’s seen it turn on even when not supposed to, its leds flashing at odd times. Following Renjun’s movements with a precision such a model shouldn’t be able to.

Renjun always laughs it off when he voices his doubts, telling him it must be some kind of short-circuit that makes it activate at random times.

It can definitely be, but Jeno can’t help but feel there’s something off, something _more_ to it. He looked up the model on the Net, and apparently it went out of production because there was a flaw in the design--the charging system deteriorated very quickly because of the sub-par materials used to fabricate it, and even unopened Chenle-Z01s couldn’t be turned on after a certain amount of time, usually a couple of years. Which makes this Chenle-Z01 probably worth a ton of money.

Or, also, really suspicious, Jeno thinks.

 

It’s been almost a week since Renjun has brought the Chenle-Z01 to their apartment. One night, Jeno wakes up suddenly, feeling the need to go to the toilet.

Tiptoeing out of the bedroom and into the living room, he’s taken aback when he finds Renjun’s workstation turned on, with the Chenle-Z01 a bit too close to one of the keyboards. He knows it wasn’t Renjun who turned it on, because first of all, Renjun went to sleep early last evening, lamenting a headache, and turning everything off, and second, Jeno didn’t hear him move at all from their bunk bed after that.

“What…” he mutters under his breath.

He approaches the workstation and turns on one of the monitors, the picture of a fox Renjun uses as the desktop wallpaper glaring at Jeno. There is no window open, but with few taps on the keyboard Jeno pulls up the browser’s search history, and there they are, several searches starting with “Jisung-P02” followed by “spotted”, “auction”, and words on a similar tone, made less than five minutes before, when Jeno was lying in bed awake, gauging whether he really wanted to get to the toilet or not, and Renjun was sleeping peacefully on the bed under his.

He feels guilty for an instant when his eyes slip further down and he accidentally reads the previous searches, “Lucas wedding announcement” and “Lucas press conference”, but there are more pressing matters at hand.

“You,” he snarls, grabbing the Chenle with his hands and shaking it in his hold. The robot starts emitting a low whirring sound. He brings the robot up to his face, staring intently at the sensor placed between the two led “eyes”. “I don’t trust you.”

“You don’t trust who?” Renjun’s sleepy voice comes from behind him.

Jeno startles and almost drops the Chenle. Renjun rubs his eyes, squinting at a point somewhere behind Jeno.

His workstation monitor.

“Why is it on…?”

“This thing… I woke up, and it was there, and the browser’s…” Jeno bites his tongue. The robot whirrs to life once again, louder than earlier, and then completely stills again.

Renjun walks to his workstation and takes a glance at the screen. “Why are you going through my browser’s search history?”

“Look, there are some odd searches… Uh?”

There’s no trace left of the “Jisung-P02” searches, which means this looks horribly, horribly wrong. In the monitor’s dim light, he witnesses Renjun’s face changing expression, sleep completely wiped off his brain.

“I swear there were…” Jeno starts, uncertain, but Renjun doesn’t wait for his explanations.

“I can’t believe this,” he bites out, fuming, turning off the workstation. “You were checking my searches.”

“Believe me, I wasn’t, there were…”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” Renjun cuts him off, turning to face him. “I don’t want to see your face, either,” he pushes him away, and Jeno fumbles backwards, hitting with the back of his legs his own workstation chair.

“It’s… The robot is…!”

Renjun runs to their shared bedroom, slamming the door. Jeno can hear the soft _bip_ of the sound-proofing lock.

 

Jeno spends the night on his workstation chair. He can’t sleep, he can’t talk to Renjun through the door, and his phone is still on its charging deck inside the bedroom, so the only thing he can do is turning to his own workstation and try to clean up his thoughts by working on the code of his demo.

Before that, however, he puts the Chenle inside a cabinet in the kitchen, taping it closed so there’s no risk, because he’s sure by now that the robot isn’t exactly what it’s supposed to be. He works for hours, until his eyes burn, but by the time morning comes he realises he’s just produced a whole load of garbage.

His eyes fill up with tears, and soon he’s sobbing, not bothering to hide the noises coming from his throat, because Renjun won’t hear him anyway, on the opposite side of the door.

He falls asleep, exhausted, with no sign from Renjun.

 

Jeno is woken by an abrupt, loud crash from the kitchen. The door to their room is open, and Renjun isn’t inside, so he runs to the source of the noise, hoping to find him there. He isn’t, and Jeno feels a dull pain in his chest, because this means Renjun must have tiptoed around him to get out of their apartment without waking him up, avoiding him.

They really need to talk. Renjun believes that Jeno has been checking his browser history, which is true, in a sense, but it’s not what Renjun thinks, and Jeno doubts his reaction would have been the same if those searches about Yukhei hadn’t been there. He feels sorry for seeing those searches, he truly does.

Another noise. Jeno jumps, and he finally notices that the cupboard where he put the Chenle-Z01 has been opened, the tape still sticking on its door. He looks down and finds the robot upside down midair, with one of its board-feets stuck on a half-opened drawer. It’s trying to disentangle itself by moving its “feet” and using its jumping mechanism, but to no avail.

“Help me!” the robot cries, and the way it’s said--not playful, almost scared, definitely not the kind of tone such a model would use--is the last nail in the coffin to its credibility as a normal Chenle-Z01.

Jeno grabs one of the folding chairs and opens it, sitting on it with a smirk.

“What are you?” he asks the Chenle-Z01, or rather, whatever is actually inside it.

“I’ll tell you when you free me from this!” the robot _whines_.

“No.”

“Please!”

“I don’t know what you’re capable of doing, so. Nope.”

The robot stills. “You’re cruel, you know?”

Jeno folds his arms. “I’m not. Do you want to be rescued or not?”

“I’m in this situation because I feel sorry for you!”

“Right,” Jeno scoffs.

“Really!”

“I’ve already told you what you have to do in order to get my help.”

The robot starts rotating its arms. “Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you! I’m a rogue AI!”

Jeno sighs. He loves Renjun, he really loves him, he _love_ loves him, but what kind of piece of junk has he brought home?

“I told you, now you have to put me down!” the robot shrieks.

“I will, when you give me a more detailed explanation,” Jeno says in his most authoritative tone. “‘Rogue AI’ isn’t the most reassuring thing out there.”

And so the robot talks.

 

Renjun is late. It’s way past the time he usually gets back home after his part-time at the restaurant, and Jeno is growing restless. He tried messaging him, he tried calling him, but his messages aren’t even received, which means Renjun disconnected from the Net, and he doesn’t answer his calls. It’s frustrating, but the truth is, Jeno is worried. He doesn’t care if Renjun will ignore him after that, he really just needs to hear he’s okay.

Chenle--the AI said they don’t have a given, intelligible name, only a string of letters and numbers, so they said they could be referred to with that--softly pinches the hem of his sweatpants, pulling a little.

“He’ll be okay,” they say. “As soon as he comes back, I’ll explain the situation. I’m sorry.”

Jeno pats Chenle on the knob. “Thanks,” he says with a sigh.

“I shouldn’t have tried to hide when you found me,” Chenle says. Their chirpy, metallic voice is starting to sound cute to Jeno’s ears, which is bad. “I deleted my traces just in time, but I didn’t think it would put you in a difficult situation.”

“No use crying over spilled milk. I’m sure I’ll manage,” Jeno tries to reassure them, but there’s no need to understand the complexities of human feelings to understand he’s actually trying to convince himself of that.

Renjun has never been this late.

The phone starts ringing, and Jeno looks at the screen with renewed hope, only to lose it again when he sees it’s only Jaemin. He considers for a moment to ignore the call, but he’s already angered Renjun, he doesn’t want to fight with Jaemin as well.

“What’s up?”

“Jen, come here to the restaurant and pick Renjun up.”

Jeno stands up immediately. “Renjun? Is he okay?”

“He is. He came here for dinner and fell asleep after eating, though, and uh. I need the table. I tried waking him up, but I think he has a fever.”

“Sure, I’m coming. In a moment.”

Jeno can hear Jaemin hesitate on the other end of the line. “Did you two guys fight? He was in a pissy mood.”

“Uh. Kinda.” He eyes Chenle. “I’ll tell you one of these days.”

“Should I come with you?” Chenle asks after Jeno has ended the call. They’re rotating their claws--is that like wringing hands? Whatever, he’ll ask later.

“No need to,” Jeno replies, rushing to the apartment’s entrance to get his jacket and put on his shoes.

 

Just as Jaemin had told him, Renjun is slumped on the table. He looks like he’s sweating a lot in his sleep. Jeno touches his forehead with two fingers, and that’s enough to feel the temperature is high.

There isn’t much else he can do, so he picks Renjun up on his back, with the help from Jaemin and one of his cousins working there, and then he carries him home like that, on his own. He regrets not renewing his gym subscription to cut costs last year.

 

He pushes in the code for the lock and almost collapses in the entrance of their apartment.

“You’re back!” Chenle warbles from the living-slash-study-room, and Jeno can hear their whirring getting closer.

“We are, but Renjun’s got himself a fever,” he tells them from the entrance, lowering Renjun so he’s sitting, his back resting against the wall, while he takes off his shoes.

“Who are you talking to?” Renjun slowly opens his eyes, looking confused at Jeno. “Is there someone visiting?”

“It’s me!” Chenle says with a jump, and Renjun turns to look at the robot, confused.

“I didn’t remember those models had so much conversational skills,” he murmurs.

“They didn’t. I’m not exactly a Chenle-Z01. But you can call me Chenle anyway, it’s not like I have a proper name.”

Renjun’s eyes widen comically, his mouth opening and closing like fish.

“We’ll explain you what’s going on later. You need to rest first,” Jeno cuts in.

“Sorry about last night,” Chenle adds before Jeno can lead Renjun to the bedroom, putting Renjun’s arm around his own shoulders and his arm around Renjun’s middle. “He wasn’t spying on you, he was spying on me!”

Renjun freezes at the mention of last night’s events.

“I’m sorry about that,” Jeno murmurs. “But really. You need to rest first. We’ll figure that out tomorrow.”

He tries to resume walking, but Renjun keeps him in place. “Sorry for overreacting,” he says, eyes fixed on Jeno’s face. They look watery for the fever. “But yeah. I feel terrible. I bet it was that idiot who sneezed on me two days ago at the restaurant.”

He slips off Jeno’s hold and walks on his own to their bedroom. “I think there’s still some medicine in the second drawer of my desk,” he adds, standing at the door.

Jeno nods, and Renjun goes to bed.

 

Renjun is holding his head in his hands. He’s sitting in his bed, while Jeno is on the floor.

“So. Basically,” Renjun tries to make order in his thoughts. “Your maker didn’t want to destroy you and his other creation, so he put you on an enhanced version of the Chenle-Z01 and the Jisung-P02 he had remodeled with this purpose, and made you run away before he got arrested.”

“Yes,” Chenle jumps excited.

“But you and Jisung got separated while you were fleeing, so you’ve been looking for someone with a computer so you could look for sign of Jisung on the Net, right?”

“Exactly!” Chenle raises his arms up in his algorithm-induced joy. “If I connect directly to the Net, they’ll find me immediately.”

Renjun glances at Jeno. “This isn’t a fever dream, is it?”

Jeno shakes his head, defeated. “I really hope the Agency doesn’t find out about this.”

If someone from the Agency were to find out they’re hiding an unauthorized AI--with the personality of a kid made to hack into stuff to boot--they’d be on their way to the Prison Sector before they can realise what’s happening to them.

Renjun shivers, and it’s not because of the fever. No one in their right mind would want anything to do with the Agency.

Chenle appears to know what the Agency stands for and what it would mean for them, because they’re immediately screeching in their metallic voice, “I don’t want to be deactivated. I don’t want Jisung to be deactivated either!”

“About this Jisung,” Renjun starts. “How long have you been looking for them?”

Chenle rotates their claws, buzzing, and Jeno gets the distinct feeling that it’s a gesture that means the AI is thinking. Jeno is a bit freaked out by how much a lot of what Chenle does looks somewhat human-like despite their appearance.

As a programmer who never managed to enroll in any of the government-controlled courses on advanced AIs, he can’t help but feel small while looking at what is very like an extremely intricate piece of code jewellery.

One made to imitate a terribly intelligent and loud kid.

“...two years, 245 days, 18 hours, 34 minutes, 18 seconds… 19… 20…”

“We get it, we get it,” Jeno cuts him off. He turns to Renjun. “What should we do?”

Renjun takes a deep breath. “Help them?”

Jeno furrows his brows. “That’s… Risky,” he says, unsatisfied. “Doesn’t sound like a safe choice.”

“You’re asking a sick person, I’m giving you a sick person answer.”

“You’d answer this in a different way if you didn’t have a fever?”

“...no,” Renjun concedes. He looks at Chenle, their led eyes blinking at him. “But would you really leave them on their own? While they’re looking for each other to be together until…” he thinks for a moment, “their circuits deteriorate?”

Chenle giggles, he fucking _giggles_ , and Jeno determines he has lost it, because he finds it cute.

“Okay, we’ll help you,” Jeno tells Chenle with a sigh.

“Great!” Chenle chirps. “Well then. I’ll rest for a bit, so you two can talk on your own.”

 

Once the hum of Chenle’s whirring stops, silence falls on the room. Jeno glances up at Renjun, who has stiffened and is now biting his thumb nail.

“So… Uh,” Jeno starts, uncertain. “Sorry about looking at your browser history. I wanted to see what Chenle was up to, and didn’t think that I would end up invading your privacy. But it’s just an excuse. I really feel sorry.”

“I was so mad,” Renjun says, his eyes on the bedcovers, and Jeno swallows, nervous. “I was so mad because I knew from the way you acted that you saw I had been looking up news about Yukhei, and I was mad at myself and ashamed, because you’ve been great and tried cheering me up so much, while I’m just this mess and…”

“Hey,” Jeno interrupts him, placing his hand on the bed, somewhere around Renjun’s knee. “Calm down. Breathe.”

Renjun looks at him, his eyes full of guilt, but he follows his words, taking deep, slow breaths.

“You didn’t do anything bad,” Jeno continues. “You can’t forget something that was so important to you in a wink.”

If only he could, Jeno thinks wistfully.

 

Looking for traces of Jisung means digging through hundreds of networks for collectors, some of them looking very suspicious for a wide range of reasons. Both Renjun and Jeno can cover their tracks just fine, but that doesn’t change the fact that some of the stuff that’s being sold on there doesn’t look very legal.

“Are you sure Jisung was sold somewhere?”

Chenle, perched on Renjun’s desk, emits a whistle that Jeno has learned means a _yes_.

“I established a direct connection with Jisung only once, and it was short, but that time they told me someone sold them, that this someone was bringing Jisung far, far away.”

“And this happened while you were here, right? You’re not from a different Sector?”

“I’ve always been here, I was made here! In one of those skyscrapers you can see from the window.”

Jeno runs a hand through his hair. He’s leaning on Renjun’s desk, glancing at the monitors from time to time, but mostly peeking at Renjun. “Well, if Jisung was mistaken for a real, working Jisung-P02 and got sold to a faraway place, it’s probably in one of the Sectors overseas.”

“It would make sense,” Renjun nods. “Whoever found them must have sold them for an outrageous price, and I doubt there are many collectors who can pay similar amounts around here.”

“Unless they’re into some shady business,” Jeno sighs. “And it’s been more than two years. Even part of the legal stuff has been wiped out already.”

Renjun cracks his knuckles. “I guess the only thing we can do is hoping we’re lucky and that the traces of this one transaction haven’t. I’ll start digging.”

“Should we do it together?”

“You have your demo to work on. I can take a break from my project, I have my part-time anyway.”

The cables and sensors for Renjun’s project are already shoved in a plastic container on the side of his desk. “You said you found your momentum, though, is it really okay? If we split the work in two, it should take less time.”

Renjun shrugs. “I’m looking forward to your demo. And if you don’t sell it soon, you’ll have to look for an extra job as well, don’t you? Don’t worry. You can try to finish it in time to the Con this way.”

Jeno tilts his head, hesitant.

Renjun grins, putting a hand on Jeno’s thigh. Jeno feels a shiver run up his leg, but Renjun seems oblivious to Jeno’s reaction to his touch.

“You call me if you need help, okay?” Jeno finally gives in.

“Of course,” Renjun smiles at him, his hand still lingering on Jeno’s leg.

Jeno gives one last nod and straightens up. Renjun’s hand drops, and Jeno doesn’t know if he misses it or if it’s a relief.

 

While Renjun uses all his free time working to help for Chenle’s and Jisung’s reunion, with Chenle constantly nestled between his monitors, commenting this or that with their chirpy metallic voice, Jeno gives it all on his demo. Contrary to his expectations, he thinks he might be able to make it in time for the Con next month. With a playable demo to show at the Con, he feels pretty confident he’ll find a buyer. His latest game didn’t completely flop, the praises on the core mechanics and the idea in itself were there for everyone to see, written on the reviews. Jeno likes what he’s making, and Renjun does as well. He feels hopeful.

His work is a rinse and repeat of writing code, trying it or asking Renjun to try it, finding bugs he needs to fix, actually fixing them.

When he’s sure he can make it in time, he purchases the booth space and rents the equipment to exhibit his demo. His bank account now is in a terrible shape, and he prays for good luck for the first time in ages, because he’ll really have to find something else to pay the bills if this doesn’t work out.

The last few days before the Con slip away in the blink of an eye. Jeno’s sleeping habits, already quite messed up, become a practical joke, and he can’t quite distinguish between the day and the night. It’s Renjun the one who makes sure he’s fed and hydrated, instructing Chenle to bring Jeno the drinks and the food he has prepared beforehand when he has to go to work at the restaurant, the one who massages his neck when Jeno feels like his head is about to fall down and roll away, the one who prepares the posters and makes the necessary announcements on the Net about the presentation of the demo.

 

Jeno is nervously biting his lower lip as he watches Renjun move on his chair, the visor and the gloves on. The average time to finish the demo should be around twenty minutes, and Renjun has been playing for longer than that. They all have tried it several times, at one point even Chenle interfaced with the game controls to “add their perspective”.

Jeno has made the last few tweaks, and this should be the demo’s final version, the one that will get installed on the machines at the Con tomorrow--the Con will open the day after tomorrow--but when he had to try it the last few times, he found himself unable to do it, too anxious, to agitated, on the verge of tears.

He isn’t sure what day of the week it is--he only knows which day of the month it is at this point--but he’s pretty sure Renjun got a day off so he could help him, even if Renjun refuses to admit it, telling him it was his day off already. Jeno feels kind of guilty about it, but right now he can’t help but feel thankful for all Renjun has done for him, because he feels like he’s about to explode if he looks at his own demo once more.

Renjun sighs and takes off the visor. Jeno tenses; there’s no time to solve any deadly bugs and the previous version crashes if the player does a certain sequence of movements and--

“It’s great,” Renjun says, beaming. “You created an amazing little gem.”

Jeno inhales sharply, realising now he had stopped breathing for a few seconds. He feels dizzy, and lets himself slump to the ground. He kicks Chenle inadvertently doing so, earning an indignant squeak.

“I tried messing a bit while playing, to see if it crashed, but everything went smoothly. This should be enough for the Con.” Renjun gets off the chair to sit next to Jeno. “It’s really great, I had a lot of fun. Who would have expected that rolling a ball and making random objects stick to it could be so fun?”

Jeno feels so euphoric at his words that he barely notices Renjun’s hand on his knee.

 

After sending the final version of the demo to the company that will install it on the machines, Jeno sleeps properly for the first time in what feels like way more than the actual hellish week he has just spent finishing the demo. Tomorrow he’ll have to go to the exposition area where the Con is held to make sure the machines running the demo work as they should, so there’s still that worry nagging him, but his body has completely given up, claiming some few precious hours of complete rest.

Before falling asleep, he suddenly remembers he hasn’t heard a word on Renjun’s search for Jisung, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind, too tired to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jeno's game is basically [katamari](https://youtu.be/2_kjFUU8vgo?t=19).


	2. Chapter 2

Jeno wakes up to Renjun’s voice telling him it’s time to get ready for the Con. He cracks his eyes open. Renjun has climbed on the bunk bed ladder, and is standing there, his head showing above the mattress of Jeno’s bed. Jeno sleeps with his head on the same end of the bed as the ladder, which means Renjun’s face is very, very close.

He looks at Renjun and Renjun looks at him, smiling, fond.

He doesn’t feel very sleepy anymore.

“You should get ready to go,” Renjun tells him again, his voice soft, breaking the spell.

“I hate the Con,” Jeno whines, stifling a yawn.

He has spent the whole day yesterday helping setting up the machines and preparing the booth. By the early afternoon everything was running smoothly, but then one of the machines short-circuited because of the exhibition area’s terrible electrical system, almost bursting into flame. He had to wait for a representative from the company running the Con so the folks from the hire company could do whatever they needed to do about the insurance, and then for another machine to be brought there, set up, and tested.

“But you’d love to get rich, so get out the bed,” Renjun snickers.

“Yeah. That would be cool. No more need to go to the Con,” he mumbles, sitting up on the bed and almost hitting the ceiling in doing so.

“Careful,” Renjun laughs, getting off the ladder.

Jeno follows him down, grabs some clothes and underwear and then runs to the communal showers on their floor, to quickly wash himself. The water is freezing, but at least there’s some. A few of their neighbours are there as well, getting ready for their jobs or washing away the waste and the dust after a long night spent working, but none of them greet him, and he doesn’t either.

When he’s back, Renjun is in the kitchen, the breakfast ready on the table.

“Which day?” he asks Jeno when he’s almost finished with his food.

“The second one.”

The Con lasts three days, with the first two open for the press and the third one for the general public. The most important day is the second, at least for Jeno, because it’s the day where the folks from game companies usually make their rounds in the area where the freelance developers looking to sell their games are, eventually making offers.

“Keep an eye out for the people from NCTGames,” Renjun tells him as Jeno gulps down his tea. “Their official account liked the post with the demo’s trailer.”

Jeno knows of them. It’s a relatively new and still small-ish company that hit it big with a lucky row of successful quirky, niche-but-not-too-much games after a couple of years of being pinch-hitters for bigger developers.

“I’ll do,” he says. “Thanks for doing all the promotional stuff for me.”

“No problem.” He shoots a look at Chenle, now inactive in a corner of the kitchen. “And before I forget to tell you. Yesterday I found something interesting on a Jisung-P02 owned by a collector in Sector 5.”

Jeno stops with his mug cup midair to listen to him.

“I couldn’t find when or where he bought it,” Renjun continues, “but he either kept it at home or rented it for expositions for a couple of years, until two months ago he claimed it was stolen from the storage in his house. The burglars didn’t leave any trace, as if, quote, ‘the damn thing walked out on its own,’ unquote.”

“And you think it did for real.”

“No broken locks. Cameras tampered with, as if there was an interference of sort. It could be unbelievably good burglars,” Renjun says, a triumphant grin on his lips, “or it could be a robot capable of cracking open electronic safes and moving on its own volition.”

In other words, the Jisung they’ve been looking for.

Jeno looks nervously at the digital clock hanging in the kitchen, placing the mug cup back on the table and getting up from the table. He needs to hurry up.

Renjun follows his gaze and seems to realise the same thing. “I’ll tell you the rest when you come back, now go” he says. “See you later. And good luck.”

Jeno looks at him standing up on tiptoes and then there’s Renjun’s hand on his head, gently ruffling his hair. “You’ll do great,” Renjun tells him.

Jeno doesn’t quite believe what’s happening, but it feels comforting, so he bends his head a bit, to make it easier to reach for Renjun.

And when Renjun is dropping his hand and settling back on his heels, in an impetus of boldness, he grabs Renjun’s hand before he can bring it back to his side, holding it in his two hands. “Thank you, for everything,” he tells Renjun, looking at him in the eye, and he hopes that it’s enough to convey how much he really means it.

Renjun looks taken aback for an instant, but he immediately regains his composure and giggles. Jeno lets his hand free, taking a step back. “I’ll see you later.”

 

He doesn’t have much time to think about that exchange in the kitchen.

The offer from NCTGames actually comes on the first day, a bit before closing time. A young executive--Jeno knows he’s from NCTGames from the badge, as if the green jumper with the company’s logo stamped on the back wasn’t enough--shows up at the booth, tells him he played all the games Jeno has released independently and even managed to get his hands on Jeno’s original demo version for _Ordinary_ , and finally tries the demo.

Jeno looks at him avidly, gauging his reactions while he’s playing. The guy has a small smile on his lips when he starts playing, and it grows larger as he goes on. When the demo ends, the man gets up from the seat, takes off the visor and the gloves, and goes to the side of the booth to make a short phone call. Jeno can’t help but stare at the guy as he gets off the phone and walks up to him, getting very close, maybe a bit too close for comfort, and then he’s whispering an outrageous number to Jeno’s ear.

Jeno wouldn’t be able to move to Sector 5, but that amount of Credits would definitely have him covered for a few years here. He could even get that water depurator. Or maybe just move to a better apartment with Renjun.

Jeno knows how to play the game, however, so he doesn’t accept immediately. What he does, right after the very charming Lee Taeyong, chief executive at NCTGames, has given him his contact details so he can call him in case he changes his mind, is making a phone call to talk with Mark, his friend from university who acts as his accountant when needed.

Unless he gets a better offer in the next few days, he’ll have Mark call this Taeyong guy and discuss about the price. Jeno would even accept the offer as it is, but he knows that he can get something more out of it, and he trusts Mark to stretch the folks at NCTGames as thin as they can get. Business is business.

He starts writing a message to Renjun, but then he thinks better of it, figuring out he’d like to tell him later, as a surprise.

 

The rest of the day isn’t quite as eventful. A journalist from a magazines specializing in indie games asks him a couple of questions, quite a few others show interest in his demo, a couple seem more perplexed than anything, one outright laughs at him, shaking his head (but after _that_ offer, who cares?).

When he gets back home, he is first greeted by Chenle, who was waiting for him at the entrance. He crouches to pat them on their head, or whatever that is, and Chenle laughs contentedly.

Renjun walks out of the kitchen, drying off his hands on his shirt. “You’re back.”

He leans on the wall, putting his hands behind his back, as he waits for Jeno to step out of his boots and his coat.

“It’s freezing outside,” Jeno says, barely hiding his grin.

Renjun narrows his eyes at him, suspicious. “They say it should get a bit warmer overnight, but it will snow before that…?” Renjun tells him, a questioning lilt to his voice, but it’s not about the weather forecast.

Jeno decides he can’t hold it back anymore. “You’ll never believe the amount of money I was offered today.”

“I told you your demo was great,” Renjun says, a smile blooming on his face.

 

Jeno receives other three offers on the second day, but none of them are better than NCTGames’. He reports everything to Mark, of course, trusting him to negotiate with all of them and pick the offer with the best conditions, but he doubts the final choice will be unexpected.

 

He’s not wrong. A week later, he’s signing digital documents over a conference call, the faces of Mark, Lee Taeyong and another bunch of people from NCTGames lined up on his monitors. He’s getting a very large sum for the demo, plus an advance on royalties, whose percentage Mark managed to stretch quite a bit.

Jeno isn’t sure if the management of the company is either completely nuts or unbelievably visionary, but he won’t be the one complaining about it, for sure.

When he looks at his account balance after the company made their payment, Jeno has to ask Renjun to check it with him, because even though he knows that the balance is correct, that’s still a very big amount of Credits.

Renjun has moved his chair next to him to look at the monitor, and Jeno has grabbed his hand for comfort, while Renjun has to patiently count the zeros with him and reassure him that yes, this isn’t a dream, and no, this isn’t a joke.

“I’m going to buy that water depurator,” Jeno says, dazed, unable to look away from the screen. “And a fancy armchair with all the comforts for you.”

Renjun tries to elbow him, but Jeno is still holding his hand, so he somehow manages to twist himself and Renjun’s hand enough to protect his ribs.

“Before you start wasting all your newfound money, sleep it off, please,” Renjun giggles, giving up. “And I don’t need presents,” he adds after a moment, a bit more serious.

Jeno squeezes his hand. “But I want to. Even if I don’t get to buy the water depurator,” he says, deliberately pouting. “You’re always complaining about your neck and back pain like an old man.”

“Why are you so fixed on that water depurator?” Renjun asks playfully, leaning out the chair and into him.

“So it’s a yes for the armchair.”

Renjun nudges him, clicking his tongue and shaking off Jeno’s grip on his hand, and he looks like he’s about to add something, when they hear a sound from the opposite side of the living room.

It’s Chenle, _sighing_.

“I miss Jisung,” Chenle says, looking as dejected a robot looking like a blue cylinder can.

Jeno feels vaguely guilty for being this happy, now.

“Do you think we’ll get a reply on the posts any soon?” the AI asks, clawing at a speck of dust on the floor.

Renjun sits up. “I’m sorry Chenle, I don’t know,” he says, looking at Chenle with pity. “I’m afraid we can’t do much else.”

Although the disappearance of the Jisung-P02 had helped them pinpoint Jisung’s latest sighting, they had soon hit a wall--the robot had completely fallen off the radars, and even combing through the least legal and most shady boards on the Net, there was no trace of them. So they did the only other thing they could--posting in every place possible, posing as collectors who wanted to get their hands on a model, to complete their collection. They also took one risk: taking a photo of Chenle and posting it in their post, after Chenle insisted that Jisung would be able to recognise them with it, by their dents.

They have gotten some offers from sellers since then, but none of them appear to be the Jisung they are looking for.

“We can bring you to Sector 5 in a in a month,” Renjun blurts out, as though he just came up with an idea. “If you want to look for Jisung on your own.”

Jeno furrows his brows, turning to look at Renjun. “Are we going to Sector 5?”

Renjun freezes, and then it finally dawns upon Jeno. The wedding.

He feels like an idiot for forgetting about it. They also have to get their wedding presents soon, but he’s been so happy for successfully selling his demo that he has momentarily forgotten about it. For a moment, it had been just him, drunk on his euphoria, with Renjun by his side.

He tries stealing a glance at Renjun, but Renjun catches him and they look at each other for an instant, staring blankly at each other, before Jeno looks back to Chenle.

“Yeah, right,” Jeno says. His throat feels dry all of a sudden. “We can bring you there next month.”

Chenle perks up at the suggestion. “Really?”

“Really,” Renjun says with a nod.

Chenle starts jumping, rotating their arms, looking excited as though they’re about to go on a field trip.

Jeno wants to say something to Renjun, but once again, he doesn’t know how to put it into words without pouring salt into a wound.

He must look kind of constipated, because Renjun puts a hand on his back.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Jeno would like to ask that same question to him.

He nods, just so that Renjun would stop looking at him with his big eyes, looking genuinely worried about him. “...about earlier,” he starts, hesitant. “I… Uh…”

“We should look for our wedding presents,” Renjun cuts him. “Do you have any suggestion?”

Jeno just stares at him, unable to speak, so Renjun lets out a sigh and nudges Jeno out of the way, so he can reach the keyboard. Jeno whines at that, more out of instinct than anything, because one of Jeno’s pet peeves when he’s sitting with someone else at his workstation, is not being the one sitting in front of the keyboard.

“Should we get something together?” Renjun is smirking, his eyes on the screen.

They’ve lived together for so long, of course he knows all about what irritates Jeno.

It’s Renjun, though, so Jeno can’t really get angry at him. He tries to gently push Renjun away from the keyboard, but Renjun grabs the desk and resists his attempts. Jeno is bigger and stronger than Renjun, though, so he gets up and pulls Renjun’s rolling chair away from the desk until Renjun has to choose between falling forward from the chair with his hands still on the desk or pushing himself up and letting the desk to regain his balance.

Renjun chooses the latter.

Triumphant, Jeno jumps back on his chair and rolls it back in front of the keyboard, but as soon as he looks at the screen, a ton of new windows start opening up.

“Controlling the workstation wirelessly isn’t fair!” he cries, turning to look at the side of the living room where Chenle is, and the AI starts cackling in response. Even Renjun is snickering at him.

After the order has been restored--Jeno had to plead Renjun to ask Chenle to give him back the reins of his own workstation--they start browsing through various online shops. Renjun put Chenle on the desk, but the AI isn’t being of much help, suggesting increasingly ridiculous present ideas. Renjun keeps laughing at those, thoroughly enjoying himself.

In a fit of temporary insanity, they end up ordering a personalised whiskey barrel for the newlyweds.

Renjun smiles throughout the whole ordeal.

 

On the same day, for the first time in a while, Renjun stays up to work on his project.

“Should I sleep here on the couch, in case you need me?” Jeno asks him when he decides to call it a day and gets up from his workstation, feeling content with the armchair he just ordered while Renjun was concentrating at his own workstation.

“Nah, don’t worry.” He is fiddling with his hoodie string, examining lines of code on one of the screens.

Jeno walks into their room and gets ready to sleep, only to change his mind last minute, grab the comforter from his bed and walk back into the living room. Renjun doesn’t look at him, but he snorts when he hears the sound of Jeno’s steps on the floor.

Jeno settles on the sofa, wrapping himself in the comforter and using his arm as a pillow. The sofa isn’t big enough for him, and he has to curl up his legs, but he’s done this a million times already, so he’s used to this by now.

They have been doing this sort of ritual since their time as postgrad students, after they moved together to save rent money. If one of them had to work on his projects at night, the other would sleep in the same room, more for comfort than for anything, because neither of them really dared to wake up the other to ask for help. It was more about hearing a human breathing next to them, to feel less alone. Maybe it was a bit childish, and some friends had mocked them for that, but they liked it, and they kept the habit even when they finished studying, became freelance developers and moved to a different apartment.

It was Renjun the one who initiated it, asking Jeno if he could sleep in the living room while he worked there on his assignment, one of the first weeks after the first semester had started.

Jeno remembers in vivid detail those nights spent in the dim light emitted by Renjun’s computer screen, how the last thing he saw before drifting off to sleep was Renjun’s back hunched in front of the monitor, a blanket on his lap, during Sector 2’s long winters.

Back then, the things Jeno felt for Renjun were still a confused mess of emotions. What was clear, though, was that Renjun was still in love with Yukhei, who had dropped out before finishing his undergrad to pursue his new career as an actor, and Jeno was painfully aware of it.

Things have changed since then, but are also frightfully similar. If Renjun is trying his best to finally move on from Yukhei, Jeno now knows that what he once thought of as a simple crush for Renjun, was actually much more than that. Maybe he’s the one who should move on, he thinks, but when he sees Renjun working at his workstation in the monitors’ dim light, he can’t help but feel something stir in his stomach, a feeling that goes beyond fondness in his chest.

Sometimes, he’s content with the domesticity of their life, feeling genuine happiness when Renjun seems to imply when he talks about the future that they’ll be living together for a long time. Other times, however, he wishes he could hold Renjun in his arms, he could touch him, kiss him--that he could cross all the lines, and those are the times when Jeno finds it difficult to look at Renjun, because he’s terrified of ruining what they have now.

There are times lately, when he feels exhausted and can’t keep down his most egoistic side, when he thinks he’s happy that Yukhei decided to marry, cutting off any remaining hope for Renjun.

Those are the times when he feels the shittiest.

“Jeno?” Renjun calls suddenly. He’s turned towards Jeno, but Jeno can’t see his face, a dark shape in front of the monitors. “Are you still awake?”

“I am,” Jeno murmurs in reply, shifting on the couch.

“If you want, I can let you try my game, tomorrow,” Renjun continues in a low tone.

Jeno hums, assenting.

Renjun doesn’t add anything more and turns back to his workstation.

The tapping of the keyboard keys lulls Jeno to sleep.

 

When Jeno wakes up, his neck feels stiff, unsurprisingly. He stretches, yawning, and sits up. The room isn’t dark anymore, with grey light filtering through the window-shutters.

Renjun is sleeping at his workstation, slumped against the desk, using his arms as pillows. The workstation is still buzzing, but the monitors are turned off. With a huff, Jeno gets up off the couch, grabbing his comforter, and pads across the room to Renjun’s workstation, putting the comforter on Renjun.

He’s startled by a sudden whirring behind him, and turns to find Chenle at his feet.

He pulls his finger up to his mouth, and Chenle raises one of their arms and rotates their claw, their funny-looking way to show that they understand.

Jeno smiles and crouches down to pick Chenle up, heading to the kitchen and closing the door behind him. The kitchen doesn’t have a soundproofing lock, so that will have to do.

 

Jeno’s plan was waking Renjun up with some delicious smell, but his try at pancakes backfires quite literally, and when Renjun finally enters the kitchen, it’s because he jolted awake to the smell of burnt food.

Chenle is cackling from the kitchen table, where Jeno confined them after one not very appreciated, but sadly deserved, comment on his terrible cooking methods. At the sink, Jeno is using a sponge and some of the recycled water to scour out the pan and get the remains of his deranged pancake off from it.

“Don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything!” Jeno squeaks pitifully when he sees the disappointed-but-not-surprised expression on Renjun’s face. “I thought I could do this!”

Renjun snorts, grabbing Chenle from the table and hugging them to his chest as he sits on a chair. He follows Jeno with his gaze, who is stumbling around the kitchen to clean it and prepare toasted sandwiches instead of pancakes for breakfast.

 

When Jeno is finally sitting across him, he puts Chenle to the ground and starts eating.

“Do you still want to try my game?” he asks between his bites, deliberately avoiding looking at Jeno.

“Of course,” Jeno replies, surprised. “If you want me to.”

“...Yeah,” Renjun says after a pause. “I do.”

They finish eating quickly and leave the clean up for later, moving immediately to the living room.

 

Sitting on Renjun’s chair at his workstation is an unusual experience for Jeno. Renjun instructs him on where and how to put the sensors, handing them to him and then connecting them to the cables with deftly movements.

The kind of games Renjun makes are different from Jeno’s: while Jeno creates games that use traditional controllers, such as glove controllers and eye-controls implemented through visors, Renjun has always preferred sensor-driven controls. If Jeno’s preferred controllers require some kind of movement, even if minimal, the usage of sensors implies that the gamer has to be perfectly still, with the exception of their eyes.

The market for sensor games is much more limited compared to the one for traditional controllers. In theory, the controller for these games is a custom-made helmet that sends impulses through the base of the neck, but most programmers (and even a few gamers) don’t use such a delicate and expensive object, preferring a way cheaper and easier to manage system of sensors applied manually to the body.

Before starting the game, Renjun runs some tests to calibrate the sensors to Jeno’s body. When the calibration starts, Jeno feels a slight itch where the sensors are placed, but as they adjust, the feeling on his skin goes back to normal.

“What am I getting into?” Jeno asks, feeling giddy, before Renjun lowers the visor to cover his eyes for him.

Renjun smirks. “You’ll see.”

 

Once Jeno has his eyes covered by the visor and he’s sitting comfortably, a cushion in place to support his neck, Renjun activates the game from the keyboard, and Jeno is immediately greeted by a rush of colours. It takes him a few seconds to realise he’s fluctuating in the air, surrounded by the coloured petals of a myriad of different flowers, each with their unique shape. Some of the petals brush against him, soft, velvety: the sensors are sending fake impulses to his brain through his nervous system.

He’s surrounded by the sound of wind and birds chirping, but through the game’s audio Renjun’s voice comes through.

“Are the impulses too strong? Are they okay?”

“Just perfect,” Jeno breathes.

It’s mesmerizing. The feeling of being weightless, suspended in air, with the mix of excitedness and giddiness it transmits… It must have taken ages for Renjun to create this perfect balance of impulses.

As his excitedness mounts up, the rush of petals gets faster and more confused, so Jeno takes a deep breath and calms down until the petals are almost still. Moving his eyes, he starts moving in the air, the petals following him.

Under him, there are green hills, covered in grass and flowers dancing to the wind. Jeno can smell them in the sweet breeze. He concentrates and his vision starts moving, gliding gently to the hills. He is the wind itself, he realises, picking up new petals as he brushes his invisible fingers on the flowers. And then, he starts to hear it: the soft harmony made by the petals, each of them a whisper in his ears, creating a humming sound.

Jeno feels euphoric, and he runs through the hills, feeling amazed at how the grass tickles him, at the sensation of the dew on his fingers. As his speed increases a little, clouds start forming above the hills, and soon the sunny weather is replaced by a light shower. It soaks him while going through him at the same time, and he’d stop the game just to yell at Renjun that he’s a genius for being able to write that feeling into his code (and that he’s always known that, too, maybe), but he doesn’t want to stop now.

He can smell the damp earth. Renjun probably bought it from an online library. It’s a rich and yet subsided scent, probably worth quite a few Credits. It’s a nostalgic scent, and it reminds him of those field trips to Sector 9 in middle school. But there’s also something even more remote, vague memories from his childhood: from the time Sector 2 wasn’t this cluttered and Jeno’s family had a cat that would sneak in the neighbours’ garden, back when people still had gardens and backyards even in Sector 2, even above the surface.

He brushes those thoughts off and slows down. The hills here are smaller, and as the rain subsides, his nose picks up a new smell, fragrant and fresh. It takes him more time to understand what it is: he runs towards it until it hits him when the hills open, and it’s the sea, vast, choppy, deep blue with brushes of white.

Jeno has seen the sea in person only once, with his family.

As he approaches it, he feels his heart start beating faster, anticipating it.

And then the sensors give him a little jolt, the sounds are cut off and the visor turns dark.

He takes it off slowly, feeling a bit winded, and the first thing he sees is Renjun, sitting on his desk, looking at him expectantly.

“I’ve barely started the part about the sea, sorry,” Renjun apologises sheepishly, as he swings his legs, the heels hitting against one of the drawers. “So, how was it?” he asks, hesitant.

Jeno feels the urge to grab Renjun and kiss him, but it would be the stupidest thing he could do, so he just gives him his brightest smile, his eyes lidded, and simply says, “The most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

 

 

  
The weeks slip away with no sign of Jisung.

Chenle is often silent and inactive, the long wait sapping them of their liveliness. It saddens Jeno seeing them like this, even if he knows it’s just code and and algorithms made to simulate the feeling of sadness. He has read tons of books and essays on the feelings of AI, and while Jeno knows perfectly well they’re artificially made things, even he can’t help but feel empathy when he sees Chenle moping around.

Renjun, on the other hand, believes that androids dream of electric sheep.

“I wish I could do something to help them,” he says one night as he and Jeno are lying in their respective beds, the lights turned off.

From the way is voice comes out slightly muffled, Jeno knows he’s biting his nails.

“Next week we’re bringing them to Sector 5, and we’ll see if we can do something there,” Jeno says. He’s afraid it will be useless, and he’s sure Renjun feels the same.

“Chenle has been checking the message boards every day and yesterday they even downloaded huge maps of Sector 5, 7 and even some of the subterranean cities in Sector 8,” Renjun says. “Do you think they’ll ask us to stay there when we have to leave?”

Jeno hums. “It’s probable.” He hears Renjun shift in his bed.

“I’d miss that little robot,” Renjun murmurs.

“Me too,” Jeno admits with a sigh.

He hears the bed covers rustling and Renjun get up, stumbling a bit, and then finding the bunk bed ladder with his hands.

“Do you think they’ll want to stay there even if they manage to reunite with Jisung?” Renjun’s voice is close to his ear, and Jeno reaches out with his hand, trying to find the top of Renjun’s head.

He hits something else instead, getting an indignant _ouch_ in response.

“You almost put your finger in my eye,” Renjun whines, followed by the sound of his weight shifting on the ladder. “What were you trying to do!”

“I’m sorry, are you hurt?” Jeno scrambles to sit up on his bed. “I wanted to… I don’t know, pat you on the head?”

“I’m fine,” Renjun grumbles. There’s a pause, and then, he adds, “Hey, can I sleep with you?”.

Jeno is at a loss for words. Is it the sleepiness interfering with Renjun’s good sense? Is it the fear of loneliness?

“Uh. Sure.” Jeno tries to ignore how his voice has cracked saying it.

“Move then,” Renjun orders as he climbs up the ladder.

Their beds aren’t large, and so Jeno finds himself with his arm pressed against Renjun’s.

Suddenly, the silence feels awkward. Maybe Renjun has realised what he’s doing. Maybe he will think better of it and decide to go back to his bed. Jeno wishes he could see his expression right now, to decide how to act.

Renjun doesn’t go back to his bed, though. He whispers a _’night_ and turns to his side, facing Jeno, seemingly trying to sleep.

Jeno’s brain is going haywire. Is this something like sleeping on the couch in the living room when the other is working? The human contact stuff? He turns to the side, first the to the wall, then to Renjun, then to the wall once more and then to Renjun again.

He decides to stop moving to avoid annoying Renjun.

A few minutes pass, and Jeno is unsure whether Renjun has fallen asleep. He wants to call his name, but he’s afraid of waking him up.

He can barely see Renjun’s shape in the darkness of the room. It’s the first time they sleep like this, and knowing that he could move his hand a bit and find Renjun’s head on his own pillow is inebriating, but he has to keep his excitement at bay.

He’s finally closing his eyes, when Renjun suddenly speaks again.

“I like living with you and Chenle,” Renjun whispers. “I like being with you.”

There’s something like expectation hanging in the air, as if Renjun is waiting for some kind of response, but Jeno can’t open his mouth. He feels that if he does, if he tries to reply to that, he’ll end up spilling everything, and the sole thought terrifies him. So he stays silent.

“Jeno?” Renjun calls. “Are you sleeping?”

Jeno tries to stay as still as possible, hoping his pathetic attempt at feigning calm breathing is convincing.

Renjun doesn’t speak anymore that night, but before Jeno finally finds it in himself to sleep, morning is already much closer.

 

 

  
Sector 5 is everything Jeno had imagined, and even more.

The air feels clean, the weather is warm and the sun shines pleasantly on the streets. The district where the hotel is located isn’t very busy, but it’s in the most glamorous city in the whole Sector.

The hotel is comprised of four buildings laid out in the shape of an open square, connected to each other by suspended corridors, with a garden enclosed in the centre. The ceremony, a relatively private thing, will be held there on the next day. The hotel has a tall fence all around its grounds, with guards discreetly keeping an eye on the passers-by. There’s a peaceful silence in the air.

His hotel room is larger than his and Renjun’s apartment, and provides all comforts. There’s even a sofa, and Jeno has never seen a hotel room big enough to have a sofa in addition to the bed, but there it is. Each room has a shower with hot water, and the guests can wash themselves at any hour, whenever they please to. The tap water is drinkable. No leaks, no draughts.

It’s paradise.

 

After washing and putting on some clean clothes, Jeno heads to Renjun’s room, two doors down on the same floor.

He knocks at his door and waits.

“Hey,” Renjun greets him, opening the door. Renjun’s dressed like back at home, with some grey sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt. He must have just taken a shower as well, because his hair is still damp, and Jeno would give up a fortune to be able to run his fingers through it.

“Hey.” Jeno smiles at him.

Renjun steps aside, and Jeno walks in.

The room is very similar to Jeno’s. He sits on the sofa, and Renjun follows him, sitting close enough that their knees are brushing. Jeno tries not to think about it.

On the low table in front of the sofa, Renjun has set up his mini-computer, connected with a couple of cables to the room’s plugs, and Chenle appears to have already interfaced with it, their leds blinking slowly as they surf the Net.

Renjun looks fondly at Chenle, and Jeno finds himself stealing glances at Renjun out of the corner of his eye. He looks calm.

Jeno has been observing him a lot in the last few days. Renjun looks quieter, but not upset. He laughs at Jeno’s jokes, even when they’re not that funny, worries about Chenle, works on his videogame. It’s been months since Yukhei announced his impending wedding, and now that it’s only a few hours away and they’ve flown across the globe to attend it, Renjun appears composed, the bags under his eyes caused by the jetlag rather than a broken heart.

Jeno feels relieved.

When Renjun notices Jeno’s eyes on him, he turns his head and shoots him an amused look. Jeno shakes his head, and Renjun tilts his, questioning, but their silent exchange is interrupted by Chenle suddenly coming out of their prolonged silence.

“The Net connection is much better here, but this machine is so slow,” they whine.

Renjun laughs, returning his eyes to the robot. “I can’t fly a workstation around the world for a wedding, Chenle. And I can’t afford a better mini-computer either.”

Chenle emits a low whistle. “I know. But it’s still annoying.”

Renjun leans over to grab the mini-computer and disconnect it, when Chenle emits a short _bip_. Renjun’s hand stops midair.

“There’s a new reply on one of the boards,” Chenle explains.

Another _bip_ in a slightly different tone, followed by another, and then another.

“Someone is replying to all our messages on various boards.”

Renjun whips out his phone from his sweatpants’ pocket, tapping to see the new notifications by himself.

“It’s the same message everywhere,” he says, scanning several of the posts.

Jeno leans into Renjun to look at the screen. It looks like a pretty normal message, offering to sell a Jisung-P02. The only distinctive feature to it is the fact that it has been copied and pasted to different boards, which has never happened, until now.

“All the accounts used are new,” Renjun says, switching from one board to another. “Look. In one of the boards the account has even been warned because they replied to our post before posting an introduction.”

Chenle emits a garbled sound. Their leds are blinking in rapid succession, and they’re moving their arms up and down, the claws rotating. They’re clearly very excited.

“Chenle?” Jeno looks over at them.

“It’s Jisung! It’s Jisung!” Chenle cries. “We need to contact them immediately!”

Renjun’s eyes grow round. “Are you saying Jisung posted this? Are you sure?”

“The username! I’m sure!” Chenle is now jumping on the table, making it tremble.

The two humans look at the poster’s username. It’s JiChen on all the boards.

“Our models’ were sold as a unit called ChenJi, right? Jisung hates it that the ‘Ji’ doesn’t come first. It must be Jisung!”

“Send them a private message, then,” Renjun tells Chenle, pocketing his phone. He gets up, brushing off the creases on his t-shirt, and walks to the bathroom.

Jeno follows his movements with his eyes. Renjun is acting nonchalantly, but Jeno can see through it. He jumps to his feet to stop him, but he’s too late, and the bathroom door closes with a _bip_.

Chenle is unresponsive again, too busy sending data to the mini-computer.

Jeno sits again on the sofa and taps against Chenle’s “head” with a finger.

“I’m waiting for Jisung’s reply,” Chenle _whines_.

“Sorry to disturb. Have you and Renjun talked?” he asks.

“About what?”

“About what you’re doing whether you find Jisung or not. Are you going to stay here? If it’s Jisung, will you two stay in this Sector?”

Chenle’s leds blink. “Why should Jisung and I stay here?” After a pause, their claws start opening and closing slowly, and they ask in a fleeble tone, “Are you abandoning us here?”

“No! No, of course not,” Jeno reassures them. “Renjun was worried that--but if you say you want to stay with us, uh, nevermind. I’ll tell him later. I’m glad you want to stay with us.”

“I like you two. I’m sure Jisung will too. And you make funny games.”

 

Jisung’s reply doesn’t take long.

As soon as Renjun comes out of the bathroom, and Jeno has told him Chenle’s plans--Renjun’s eyes were _sparkling_ \--they start making plans to pick them up.

Chenle wanted to be there for it, but going around bringing an old robot with them from the hotel would probably look a tad bit suspicious, Jeno argues. Maybe it’s him being paranoid, because who would expect that what looks like a vintage companion robot actually holds in a snarky hacker AI? But he doesn’t want to risk it, because he knows all the stories about the Agency. Renjun sides with Jeno, even though he doesn’t look as worried about it as him, and Chenle begrudgingly accepts to wait in Renjun’s room.

Examining the public transportation map provided by the hotel, they decide their plans for later that night: firstly, they’ll head to a mall with shops open at every hour, located on the edge of the city, and then move on foot to get to the park nearby where Jisung offered to meet them, so that Jeno and Renjun could pick them up and bring them to the hotel. They’ll play the part of the tourists who have been shopping.

Before that, however, they have to attend the buffet dinner held for all the wedding guests. Like for the wedding ceremony, they aren’t required to wear formal clothes: Jeno slips into a pair of blue jeans and a new t-shirt and he’s good to go, and Renjun’s clothes aren’t much different from Jeno’s, just a kind of oversized white shirt tucked in skinny black jeans.

 

Yukhei is there at the buffet, of course, as well as his soon-to-be spouse, a producer he met through common friends a year ago.

Jeno has seen them on the tabloids’ pictures on the Net published after the wedding announcement. He’s glad for Yukhei, who looks like he’s never been this happy, but they barely manage to greet him, as he’s pulled here and there by a number of people Jeno has never seen if not though screens. It doesn’t matter to Jeno, now, though, because all he can see now is Renjun, looking relaxed as he glances around the hall.

The buffet is delicious, and it’s also a great occasion to see a few old friends before the proper wedding tomorrow.

The first one they spot is Yangyang, shoving as much food as possible on his plate at one of the buffet tables, and after chatting a bit with him, the group is found by Donghyuck, their friend who had dropped the Computer Science major for a 180 degrees turn to become a marine biologist and go to Sector 9 to do research.

Soon they’re sitting at one of the empty tables with other old friends from university, and if it weren’t for the fancy hotel hall they’re at, it would look like a class reunion. Yukhei didn’t hold back at all with the invitations. They stick out like a sore thumb, because apparently _casual clothes_ has a different meaning for most of the stars in there, but it gives them even more reason to look in awe at the celebrities hanging around, whispering at each other their names and how they think Yukhei met them.

Renjun smiles, laughs, makes snarky comments, plays around like he’s back to the days when he was a student. But they aren’t anymore, and he pats Jeno on the leg, grabs his arm to get his attention and point out some of Yukhei’s celebrity friends, leans into him to whisper him old jokes about their friends.

Jeno feels drunk with happiness.

 

They manage to catch Yukhei on their way out from the hall.

“Yukhei,” Renjun beams at him, a little tipsy on rosé, going for a hug.

Yukhei wraps his arms around Renjun and he must be a bit drunk himself, because he lifts Renjun and spins him around. “I’m so happy you’re here. It’s been ages! I’ve missed seeing you so much,” he says fondly to him once he’s put him back down.

Jeno feels a sudden bitter aftertaste to those words, but when he glances at Renjun, he looks genuinely happy, and then Jeno finally sees it. He is. Renjun is happy.

Jeno can’t help but stare at Renjun, feeling like his world was just tipped a bit off kilter.

Renjun has moved on, Jeno can see it clearly now, and he wonders if he’d have noticed it before, had he let himself see it.

But seeing it also means letting himself hope a little more, and Jeno has struggled for so long with this little hope, this little flame that refused to die years ago, and is constantly rekindled every day Renjun comes back home to him. All those daydreams where Yukhei was out of the picture, and Renjun looked at Jeno a little longer.

“I’m so happy for you, Yukhei. I’m glad I can be here,” Renjun says, squeezing Yukhei one last time before stepping back.

“Jeno,” Yukhei turns to him, giving him a half hug. “I heard from Renjun. They’re going to release one of your games next year?”

“Ah. Yeah,” Jeno says with a nod, feeling dizzy. He talks with Yukhei for a short bit, but he doesn’t remember what he has said the moment the words leave his mouth.

When they have walked out the hall and are in the garden, Renjun wraps his fingers around Jeno’s wrist and tugs. “We should go now,” he whispers. The other guests are way out of earshot, scattered around in the hotel’s inner garden, walking to the buildings where their rooms are, or to the main lobby to go outside and back to their fancy houses around here. Renjun has no reason to whisper.

It feels intimate.

 

Even the subway looks sleeker in Sector 5. They’re sitting in an almost empty car, heading to the closest station to the mall. It’s not like it’s exceptionally clean or anything, but the cars are newer, the seats more comfortable, the ride less bumpy, and there aren’t years’ worth of graffiti on every inch of the windows.

Jeno feels sleepy after all he’s drank and eaten during the buffet, and struggles to keep his eyes open even with the car’s bright lights.

“You can sleep, if you want. I’ll wake you up,” Renjun says in a low voice. “It’s just a twenty minutes ride, though.”

Jeno shakes his head, half to tell Renjun he doesn’t want to sleep, half to try shaking off the sleepiness.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Renjun asks him.

“Yeah,” Jeno replies with a nod. “I’m okay.”

Renjun hums.

“And are _you_ okay?” Jeno asks after a beat. It’s not about feeling tired after a long plane trip and a dinner, and he knows Renjun knows what he’s really talking about, but he decides he should be direct about this, at least once. “You’re really okay with Yukhei marrying?”

“I had no rights on him from the start anyway. I…” he hesitates, “He was my first love, you know.”

Jeno didn’t. But it makes sense.

Renjun shifts closer to him, their shoulders touching now. “But I feel fine now, Jeno. For real,” he continues. “I’ve been for a while. Actually, maybe I’m even a bit happy.”

Despite himself, Jeno ends up nodding off, lulled to sleep by the car’s constant trembling.

 

They have much more fun at the mall than they had intended. There’s still a lot of time before they have to meet with Jisung, and they go window shopping, glaring at the prohibitive--for people from Sector 2 like them, at least--prices listed next to the clothes exposed.

There’s a vintage machinery shop that turns out to be actually interesting and not very expensive, and Renjun spends a considerable amount of time in there, rummaging through a box of game cartridges for an old console he has back home. Jeno keeps a close eye on him, and when Renjun puts down some of the cartridges because he can’t spend _that_ much, he chooses one and buys it while Renjun is watching a row of pieces from old mini-computers, earning a wink from the old woman behind the counter.

Before leaving, they enter a cafe and order a milkshake, because why not? It’s sweet and tastes fresh, and when Renjun tries to pay it for him--Jeno gave him the extra cartridge right after they left the shop, and Renjun is now feeling competitive--Jeno suddenly realises how what they’re doing is very much like a date.

And Jeno wonders for an instant. Is it?

 

The park is deserted, and the street lamps colour it in a yellow hue that makes it look slightly creepy. The wind has picked up while they were at the mall, and Jeno is starting to regret not bringing a jacket with him. Renjun has, and he snickers at Jeno when he sees him shivering, because--of course--he had told him that he should have brought something to cover himself, before they left the hotel.

“My jacket is too small for you, sorry” he says, definitely not sorry--quite smugly, actually--as he runs a hand on Jeno’s arm.

The feeling of Renjun’s fingers on his skin doesn’t help with the goosebumps.

“I don’t see any robot,” Jeno mutters, trying to change the topic. “Are you sure Chenle said this was the place?”

“Of course I’m sure, I even checked on my own the DMs they exchanged,” Renjun scoffs, but he doesn’t drop his hand, now loosely wrapped around Jeno’s wrist for what feels to Jeno like the umpteenth time this evening. Not that he’s complaining.

“I’m here,” a voice comes from behind a bench, a few feet from them.

It’s a gruff voice, completely different from Chenle’s, but it has a metallic hint to it similar to the other robot’s.

There’s a whirring sound, and then they spot where it’s coming from.

Jisung, like all the Jisung-P02, is quite similar to Chenle, but they’re a bit taller, painted in red, and instead of feet like Chenle, they have a continuous track at their base.

Renjun’s eyes are sparkling. “Chenle will be so happy to see you,” he coos excited, picking them up.

Jisung emits a grunt.

 

As soon as they enter Renjun’s room, with Renjun still holding Jisung to his chest like a plushie, they hear Chenle’s excited cry, and immediately the robot is padding across the hotel room, shaking their arms up and down.

Jisung starts grumbling again--on their way back to the hotel, Renjun had whispered to Jeno that they seem to hide their excitement behind a mask of grumpiness, and Jeno couldn’t believe they were discussing an illegal AI’s personality in a subway car--but they move at full speed towards Chenle as soon as Renjun puts them down.

When the two robots are finally in front of each other, they start _holding hands_. Jeno stares at them as they intertwine their claws and their leds start blinking in rapid succession. It takes him a few moments to realise they’re communicating--maybe it’s wireless, maybe with some hidden connectors that their creator put in their claws.

It’s terribly cute.

“Do you have to look at us for the whole time?” Jisung mutters loudly, their claws still clasped with Chenle’s.

“Renjun.” Jeno is trying to hold his laughter at the scene. “Maybe. We should leave them alone. For a bit.”

“This is so heartwarming,” Renjun says, teary eyed. “They’ve reunited after such a long time!”

“Yeah, so now, if you please. Go somewhere else,” Jisung says sternly. “Or I’ll wipe your cloud storages.”

Chenle starts chuckling at that, and Jisung’s leds start blinking quickly.

“I think Jisung is embarrassed about being seen holding hands with Chenle,” Renjun stage whispers, and Jeno drags him out of the room as Chenle starts cackling while Jisung emits indignant noises.

 

Jeno's room has a huge balcony. He pours two glasses of wine from the mini-fridge and they go out there, sitting on the small bench placed in one corner of it. Jeno can’t help but notice that it’s made by very convincing fake wood. He tries to avoid thinking that they’re sitting on something that’s probably worth as much as their workstations back home.

The sky is clear, and while the light pollution from the busiest areas of the city doesn’t allow them to see many stars, they still manage to spot a few of the brightest.

Looking at the stars isn’t something either of them is used doing, but there’s one nostalgic memory tied to it.

Renjun’s graduation project for undergrad was a sort of multiplayer planetarium emulator. Two people could see the same stars at the same time, but not each other; in addition, they could move the stars and constellations around, each of them making a sound when touched, creating together a melody, and looking at the effect of the other player’s actions on the stars. Jeno had tried it with Renjun several times, while Renjun was testing it.

Jeno isn’t the only one who was reminded of that, clearly, because soon they’re reminiscing about that time, their shoulders brushing as they look up at the sky.

 

“You were in a constantly terrible mood back then,” Jeno laughs into his glass, sipping his wine.

“It was all my supervisor’s fault,” Renjun mutters. He’s still bitter about it to this day, a postgrad degree and a couple of years after it happened.

“Still. You were scary back then.”

“You had glasses back then,” Renjun retorts, putting down his untouched glass to the floor, and this time it’s Jeno’s turn to grimace. “You were so scared of getting operated.”

“The mechanical doctors scared me,” he whines.

“You were terrified of the most routine, cheapest automatic medical procedure out there. I can’t believe it took you so many years to get your vision corrected.”

“It would have been cool if I could have had some extras implanted, in hindsight. Pity I’m not rich.”

“You can get all you want implanted once you become rich.”

“That would be great,” Jeno chuckles.

“I believe you can make it.”

“You do?”

“I love your games, Jeno. The ones published and the ones unpublished. Every idea you have…” Renjun stops, thinking, as if looking for words. “They’re all so weird and ridiculous, it’s brilliant. You’ll be successful, I can feel it.”

“Why do I feel there was an insult in the middle of your praises?”

“It isn’t, I swear. I don’t know how you come up with them, you look like the opposite of what comes out of your mind.”

“So now you’re telling me I look boring?” Jeno laughs, putting aside his glass before he risks sploshing its contents on his shirt.

“That’s!” Renjun splutters. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“I really love your games, too,” Jeno tells him honestly.

“They’re barely games,” Renjun laughs, a note too much self-deprecatory for Jeno’s liking. “There isn’t much to do in them.”

“I don’t care how you call them. They’re wonderful. I love how you always manage to mix sounds, colours and shapes. They make me feel so relaxed and at peace,” Jeno starts rambling. “And I’m sure you’ll find a lot of people thinking like me about this, once you find a way to put your games out.”

“My professor hated my graduation project.”

“Your professor was an idiot and a dick and we both know it, you basically just said so yourself a minute ago,” Jeno stresses. “Every person who actually played it found it great. He clearly didn’t even try it.”

Renjun scoffs, looking unconvinced.

“I’m telling you, your games are great,” Jeno tells him, heated, and he knows it isn’t the wine, because he barely tasted it. “I look forward to all your future projects, because I know that whatever your brain comes up with, it’ll be creative and wonderful.” _Like_ you _are_ , Jeno leaves out.

Renjun laughs, shaking his head before giving a look at him. “I get it, I get it. You love my games.”

Jeno doesn’t miss a beat. Maybe it’s the look in Renjun’s eyes, maybe it’s the sparse stars, maybe it’s everything that happened in the last few hours: he says it, “Not just your games.”

It seems so easy taking the leap, now that he has done it. Jeno feels weightless for an instant, like he did when playing Renjun’s game. But then the euphoria dissipates, and Jeno has to look down, to fix his eyes on his own hands, in his lap. They’re trembling, and it’s not for the cold of the night, because what if he was reading too much into Renjun’s gestures, what if this is the end of everything?

“Jeno,” Renjun calls him, his voice barely more than a murmur, putting a hand on Jeno’s. “Look at me.”

That small touch is the spark that ignites the hope he’s been pushing down since that moment after the dinner. Hesitatingly, he does as told, looking to his left to Renjun. Renjun has shifted in his seat and is turned to him, his head slightly tilted up.

Renjun’s other hand comes up to cradle Jeno’s left cheek, and Jeno lets himself lean over, slowly, still unsure, but then Renjun’s thumb brushes over his skin, and Jeno finally closes the gap.

Their first kiss is a brief, delicate touch. Jeno doesn’t let it be more than that. When he opens his eyes, with Renjun’s face still close, so close, Jeno feels like he’s made of pure electricity.

And then Renjun pulls him back again.

The second time they kiss, it lasts longer, but it’s still as gentle and tentative.

“It’s starting to get cold out here,” Renjun whispers to his ear when they break the kiss. Jeno can feel Renjun’s breath on his skin, and that’s enough to make him feel winded. “And we should probably check on those two in my room.”

Renjun’s hand is squeezing one of Jeno’s now, and when he gets up from the bench, Jeno stands up as well, intertwining their fingers.

He lets Renjun lead him back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last part of this chapter gave me so many headaches, i was this close to deleting everything (i regret writing this from jeno’s point of view, among many other things...)  
> thanks to all the people who left kudos and/or comments on the first chapter and bookmarked/subscribed, because it was a great source of motivation to actually finish this. i hope i haven’t let you down too much ;;  
> anyway! the robots! they’re finally holding hands (claws)! (that was the part that excited me the most as i was writing, yes.)  
> renjun’s game is kind of like [flower](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RUC2tpY5gb4).

**Author's Note:**

> you can talk to me on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/mimimini) if you want!


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